


In the Blood

by Moon Lion (orphan_account)



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-07-23
Updated: 2012-07-25
Packaged: 2017-11-10 14:15:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/467224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Moon%20Lion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The cast of Assassin's Creed in a slashy modern day AU. Eventual Italian Mafia-esque plot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. Darim and Sef are Altaïr's cousins, not his sons. All other familial relationships remain the same.  
> 2\. Darim, Sef, Connor, Kadar, and Daniel Cross are all early twenties.  
> 3\. Malik has both arms.  
> 4\. Enjoy.

**«A two-year-old is kind of like having a blender, but you don’t have a top for it.»  
~Jerry Seinfeld**

“Are you out of bed yet?” Altaïr yelled down the hall, pulling a shirt over his head and tousling his hair into an impossibly greater mess, “If you’re not up in five minutes, you’re both going to be walking to the university.”

Matching groans of disapproval came tumbling from the two bedrooms at the end of the hall and Altaïr chuckled softly. It was with no calm fondness that he remembered that age. It was a time of angst and confusion and just thinking about it gave him a headache. Watching his two younger cousins go through the same issues, however, was absolutely hilarious.

He wandered into the kitchen with a yawn, stealing a glance at the clock on his way to the coffee machine. He had got a good hour before having to go into work, but Sef and Darim didn’t need to know that just yet. It was far better to let them believe they were on a time crunch. At least then, they may actually get somewhere on time for once.

A sudden shout and the sound of the bathroom door slamming shut nearly made him pour the entire bag of coffee grounds into the filter basket and he rolled his eyes. In a few seconds Sef or Darim, probably Sef, would come meandering in howling to be fed like a wolf cub, as if he couldn’t grab a bowl and the box of chocolate garbage from atop the refrigerator and feed himself. The fact that this was Altaïr’s typical Monday morning was depressing in a way, but the kids needed to go to college and his flat was ten minutes from campus. It was just easier this way.

Like clockwork, the telltale scuffling of bare feet across the hardwood floor alerted Altaïr to the presence of another creature and he finished setting up the coffee machine before turning around.

“Cousin, I’m hungry,” Sef grumbled, rubbing sleep from his eyes with one hand and hiking up his loose pajama pants with the other.

He was small for his age, Altaïr thought, a little too thin. Although he was only two years Darim’s junior, he was several inches shorter and far more slender, a vision not aided by the fact that he chose to grow his hair long. Not that Darim’s was much better, but at least his hair was only unkempt as opposed to Sef’s, which was nearly past his shoulder. 

No matter how many times Altaïr threatened to cut it, change the locks to the apartment, or was just plain rude about it, Sef steadfastly refused to have it cut, or even pull it up neatly into a hair tie. No, he preferred to pull it back into a messy bun. It was more fashionable, he said.

“The women in this household cook for themselves,” Altaïr shot back coolly, “And besides, you’re twenty. You should be able to scrounge up something by now.”

Sef collapsed into a chair at the kitchen table, arms stretched straight out in front of him, face resting on the table, and whined- an obnoxious sound straight from his throat that made the hair on the back of Altaïr’s neck stand straight up. He’d tried to hold out against it in the past, ignore it until Sef gave up or got tired, but it never worked in the past, and now was no exception.

Altaïr grunted in annoyance, abandoning his mission for caffeine and going to the refrigerator instead. The whining stopped at the same time as he pulled out the eggs and a loaf of bread, as was expected.

“Can you put cheese in it?” Sef asked, perking up considerably.

There was no point in arguing. Altaïr simply held in a sigh and opened the door once again for the shredded cheese before making his way over to the stove. He took comfort in knowing that this semester marked the halfway point for his cousins’ university experience. Two years from now, they would be moving on to graduate school, hopefully in another city, and he could revert his family-friendly apartment back into the glorious bachelor pad it once was.

Sef talked while he cooked- rambling about this or that happening at school and what an asshole one of his teachers was and how he liked someone in his class. Altaïr only half listened as he cracked six eggs into the pan, three for each hungry beast, and covered it before turning his attention to the toaster. 

“-And then he told me he has a part time job at this coffee shop and I was thinking I could get a job there too so that I can start saving money for a car and-”

“So you’ll get a job making other people coffee, but you won’t cook your own breakfast?” Altaïr cut him off, shooting him a look of disapproval, “Why don’t you start by getting up early and making me coffee?”

Sef fell into a huff then, shoulders hunched and brow furrowed. “But that’s different. I would be getting paid to work there.”

“You think I don’t pay you? You’ve been eating my food for two years now. Sleeping in my bed, guzzling my gas, drinking my beer...”

“I could pay for my own food if I had a job,” Sef insisted, “And I only drank your beer that one time. The rest was all Darim.”

Altaïr had to turn his attention back to the eggs, facing away from his cousin so that he wouldn’t see his wide smile as he choked back a laugh.

“Weren’t you going to save your money for a car?”

The look on Sef’s face was too much to handle after that and Altaïr was unable to hold back snorting laughter. Sef’s mouth opened, presumably to continue his tirade, and Altaïr silently thanked whatever gods might be listening when Darim yelled rather rudely down the hall for Sef to, “Shut up and get over it already!”

In the giddy morning entertainment, Altaïr completely forgot about the bread burning slowly to a crisp in the toaster oven until the scent of charred toast suddenly wafted in the direction of his nose. He spun around on one heel and, without thinking, opened the toaster and yanked the burning toast out with his bare hand, singeing the tips of his fingers.

“Fuck!” he spat, dropping the blackened squares on the counter in lieu of thrusting his hand into the sink and turning on the water. As if he didn’t get burned enough at work, now god was just making his life difficult on purpose and he did not find it amusing in the least.

Sef began giggling at the table and Altaïr glared over his shoulder, his expression quickly changing to one of approval when Darim reached over and cuffed his little brother on the back of the head. Family was a beautiful thing.

“Darim, the skillet,” Altaïr said, still running water over his hand.

Within moments, the brothers were seated at the table, calmly eating their semi-scorched breakfast while Altaïr sipped leisurely at his black coffee. It was official, he was going to be late to work yet again, but it was such habit at this point that rushing the rest of the already rushed morning seemed almost like a travesty.

After scarfing down his eggs in record time Sef darted out of the kitchen to the bathroom, long, dark hair billowing behind him like a horse’s tail. Altaïr watched him go, sucking on his teeth in objection. His hair was going to go. One way or another, it was going to go.

Altaïr finished his coffee and placed both his mug and Sef’s discarded plate in the sink, making a mental note to remind Sef that washing dishes was on his list of chores. He padded to his room, reflecting on how domestic his life had gotten recently. It seemed like just yesterday he was bringing people home nearly every night, a different trick for every day of the week. Men, women- it didn’t really matter back then.

Now he was practically ‘dad’ to his two cousins, an appalling thought when he considered that the age gap between Darim and himself was only a scant five years. It could all be chalked up to the simple truth that the boys grew up differently than he. Where he had been forced into a part time job before he even made it out of middle school, Darim and Sef had practically everything handed to them. Darim had even waited a full two years to start university so that he and Sef could begin at the same time.

And here was Altaïr, working at a motorbike repair shop without even a high school diploma and no formal training to his name. But he had a nice apartment with nice things, a decent paycheck, good friends. Well, most of them were good. He was self-sufficient, something that Sef was lightyears away from. Darim was maybe not such a lost cause.

The bed in the center of his room, a king-sized monstrosity, was unmade and disheveled, same as it had been for a week or more. He collapsed at the head of the bed to fumble around the side table for his phone. He had only a vague memory of having plugged it in the night before and breathed a sigh of relief when he found it wedged between the bed and the table, fully charged.

A quick glance over his call and message history was all the rest of the assurance he needed to know nothing stupid went down the night before- drunk texts and calls and such- and he slipped the phone into his back pocket along with his wallet.

Sef and Darim were both in the main entrance when Altaïr went to pull on his boots- Sef with his messenger bag and Darim with his sports duffle. If they hadn’t been his cousins and Altaïr didn’t know them personally, they would never be the sort he would associate with, they looked like such snobs. However, family was family and he loved them dearly for the most part if not all the time.

“Ready to go?” Altaïr asked, not bothering to tie his laces as he grabbed his car keys from their hook and opened the door, “Got all your homework?”

“Homework is so high school,” Sef replied, rolling his eyes, “And we were ready before you.”

Darim followed his brother out the door, nudging his shoulder none too gently as he went. “Don’t be such a dick.”

The ride was long, painfully so, and Altaïr was ready to throw them both out of the car by the time he pulled up to the university. Sef, over the past year, had undergone some kind of strange transformation that had indeed turned him into a little shit, and he never failed to get a rise out of Darim these days. It was like he took genuine pleasure in baiting his older brother into arguments (he called them debates) about everything from the Cuban revolution under Che Guevara to the significance of the tree at the end of their street growing at a slight angle. It was infuriating.

As a result, he didn’t even wait until the two had stepped entirely away from the car before driving away, tires screeching. It wasn’t good for the poor Mazda, but any damage it sustained could be easily fixed, not to mention worth the trouble just to get away from his cousins.

The minute he was out of eyeshot of the campus, he reached over into the glovebox and pulled out his pack of American Spirits, wedging one between his lips while he dug around for his lighter. The window creaked down slowly, just another thing to repair, and he lit it with great relish, taking a long drag and holding it for a moment before exhaling slowly, blowing the smoke out the window. He figured that by now, both his cousins had probably discovered his bad habit, but he still wouldn’t allow himself the luxury of indulging in front of them. He’d promised their mother that much.

Greasy Monkey, the bike shop, was only a mile away from campus. It was the same distance as the one between the good and bad sides of town and, not surprisingly, Altaïr’s work was in the latter.

He finished his cigarette in the car and dropped the butt in an empty coke can before stepping out, leaving his keys in the glove box. He’d punched in enough years with the shitty little mechanic shop that everyone recognized his car on sight and shared the common understanding that touching Altaïr’s shit was absolutely off limits on pain of losing an eye, or a finger, or even a limb.

“You’re late again, fuckhead.”

Federico’s greeting was far from affectionate if taken at face value, but seeing the playful glint in his friend’s eye served to slightly brighten Altaïr’s otherwise dismal morning.

“Blame the kids,” Altaïr replied, expression crumpling quickly into one of exhaustion, “They’re such terrors at that age. I don’t think I was ever that bad. Hell, even you weren’t that bad.”

A laugh came bubbling from Federico and he shook his head knowingly.

“That’s because we were forced to grow up. We didn’t take the easy way,” he stated, tone frank, “And I’ve got a little terror of my own, remember?”

Altaïr’s brow crumpled as he tried to remember the kid’s name. “Ezio, isn’t it?” he finally said, “He’s in the university too. He’s probably friends with Sef, I’m sure they’d get along great.”

“Wouldn’t surprise me. Ezio’s getting better though. Ever since Giova- Dad gave him the same bullshit ultimatum he gave me, he straightened up a bit. I guess he’s the smarter one.”

“You’re being unfair to yourself.” Altaïr swung an arm over Federico’s shoulder and pulled him into a loose hug. “You’re too much of an asshole to be stupid.”

Federico shoved him away with a mocking laugh, “Same can be said for you, bastardo. Now get to work before we both get fired.”

An old Aprilla Pegaso was waiting in Altaïr’s bay when he finally got around to the actual work part of his job. Even from a distance, he could tell it was in decent condition for an older bike, probably from the early ‘90s. He didn’t even bother to glance over the paperwork for it on the way over, he simply sat down in the seat, twisted the key in the engine, and gave it a little clutch. The engine roared to life with all the stuttering thrumming it could manage, going nearly steady for a good ten seconds before choking itself off and winding down before dying.

Five minutes and a haphazard examination of the fueling system later, Altaïr concluded that his gut instinct had been right- a combustion issue with the deteriorating piping- and only then did he look over the file he’d pulled from his inbox. Right at the top, his boss had written ‘Transmission Issue?’ in red letters. However painfully tempting it was to pull out his own pen and add a big, fat ‘NO’ to the question, he was able to fight the urge and fill out the rest of the form properly.

“You’re like a savant with this shit,” Federico shouted from his bay, impressed by the speed with which Altaïr worked, “Remind me again why the hell you aren’t working at the Ducati place on the other side of town.”

Altaïr smirked. “Because you’d miss me too much, and I’m not that much of a snob.”

The answer seemed to satisfy Federico enough that he fell silent, going back to work on his own enigma- a Harley fresh off the line with a fluid leak from somewhere. That’s what the boss had written on his file in his own words, with his own stupid red pen, and now it was up to his underpaid peon to fix it. It was a flawed system, but no one complained. That’s just the way things worked.

Time flew by fast in the shop. After the Aprilla came one of those lightweight Japanese bikes that some poor kid had dropped, probably on his first outing, and the frame ended up getting all kinds of bent out of shape. And then came lunch, more work, smoke break- it all blurred one hour into the next until Altaïr’s phone was quite suddenly vibrating incessantly in his pocket until he was forced to pull it out and yell at it only to find he had worked a full hour longer than scheduled.

Of course, that also meant he was almost an hour late to pick up Sef, the lazy one, from campus and now he was expressing his contempt at being forgotten. Altaïr dialed up his number and hit the call button, wedging his phone between his ear and his shoulder so that he could toss a tarp over his latest project and tie it down.

“Where the hell are you?” Sef’s annoyed voice came through the ear piece louder than Altaïr had been expecting and he cringed.

“Sorry, Sef, ended up working late by mistake,” he apologized, completely insincere, “I’ll be there in ten.”

“Don’t bother, I ended up going to a friend’s house anyway.” Sef paused for a minute- either to let the information sink in or because he was gathering the stones to ask a favor, and probably an inconvenient one. Altaïr put his money on the favor. “Can you pick me up in like an hour?”

And there it was- the truth was out. Altaïr groaned inwardly. It wasn’t as if he had choice. He couldn’t just say- sorry, Sef, but not today. That wasn’t in the playbook.

“Yeah, fine,” Altaïr grumbled, “Where are you? and where’s your brother.”

“I’m not Darim’s keeper,” Sef replied in a whine, “How am I supposed to know? I’ll text you the address to Kadar’s place in a second. Talk to you later.”

Altaïr hated how much he let himself spoil Sef. A proper parental figure wouldn’t have succumbed, he told himself, a real parent would have demanded that he come home, or at least told him to take a bus. There was only so much of the ‘dad’ persona he was willing to let himself take on, however, and what he did not want was to be pigeon-holed as an asshole for the rest of their stay.

He approached Federico with a sour scowl.

“I’m heading out,” he grumbled, “The youngest has need of me.”

Federico clapped him on the shoulder, grinning widely. 

“Safety and peace.”

Altaïr shrugged off the farewell, opting for a more colorful single finger salute as he left the shop.


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sef & Kadar. There is porn in this chapter.

**«Friendship is unnecessary, like philosophy, like art... It has no survival value;  
rather it is one of those things that give value to survival.»  
~ C.S. Lewis**

 

The television had been forgotten for a long while, the movie playing was left neglected and the sound spilling forth from the flat screen only served as background noise so as to not arouse suspicion.

Sef’s fingers brushed along Kadar’s knee in slow, looping designs, deliberately teasing. He shifted, his shoulder blades arching into the toned muscles of Kadar’s chest, and stretched, tilting his head back to rest on Kadar’s shoulder. It gave him access to the smooth skin of his neck which he nuzzled against and kissed softly, his hand still working up to the sensitive skin of Kadar’s inner thigh. He could feel Kadar responding to his affectionate gestures, reveled in the way Kadar’s arms, wrapped around his middle, tightened ever so slightly.

His kisses became more insistent, more confident, and he coaxed the sensitive skin beneath his earlobe between his teeth, sucking softly. Kadar’s breath hitched, his hand slipping beneath the thin fabric of Sef’s shirt and he danced long fingers across his belly, drawing out a small laugh from Sef. The minute movement caused Sef to dig his heels into the bed and it creaked slightly; the sound inspired Kadar to turn the movie on just a tiny bit louder.

“Isn’t your cousin coming soon?” Kadar inquired, somewhat breathless. “This seems counterproductive, don’t you think?”

Sef shook his head. “He’ll be late. He’s always late.”

Kadar seemed to accept the answer, his fingers dipping into the front of Sef’s jeans, his reply catching in his throat when he realized Sef wasn’t wearing underwear. He used his free hand to stroke Sef’s jaw, coaxing him into a hot kiss and meeting an intensely enthusiastic response. Kadar’s tongue darted out and snaked past Sef’s lips, stealing his breath away and filling his belly with fire.

Being who he was, Sef grew impatient quickly- canting his hips upwards and nipping at Kadar’s lip, letting it slide slowly from between his teeth until he could skim over the spot with his tongue.

“When did you get so needy?” Kadar asked, reaching down to unfasten Sef’s jeans. He hooked his thumbs under the fabric and worked it down his thighs, but the angle made leverage difficult and Sef ended up simply kicking off the offending garment on his own. And then, when Sef parted his legs, his growing arousal bobbing proudly between his thighs, Kadar was unable to hold back a pleased chuckle. There was no one quite as needy as Sef, nor quite as loving, and Kadar rewarded him with a touch- stroking him languidly to full hardness.

A velvety moan passed through Sef’s lips, swallowed by another, more passionate, kiss as Kadar pressed their mouths together firmly, his tongue darting out to tease along Sef’s lower lip. His hand glided easily along Sef’s skin, thumb brushing over the swollen head and spreading the precome gathering at the tip along the underside of his length. It earned him another long moan, one that went straight to his own painfully hard arousal, still trapped in the confines of his own jeans.

It was a problem rectified easily by urging Sef to sit up slightly so they could both pull their shirts over their heads, Kadar taking the chance to fumble at the clasp of his own jeans so he could work his way out of them.

“I think we’re out of condoms,” Sef groused, only half of his nude body visible as he groped around beneath the bed for a box that wasn’t empty. “You said-”

“Front zipper of my bag,” Kadar interrupted, “I think there’s lube in there too.”

Sef slid the rest of the way off the bed lazily and started the search for the discarded school bag, giving Kadar a nice look at his lover’s body. He loved the way Sef’s hair flowed over his tanned skin, enjoyed it even more when it was tickling his own flesh when they were tangled together in bed. He liked being able to twist it around his hand and pull it during their more eager trysts- when Sef was on his knees and elbows, fingers clawing at the sheets and headboard while Kadar pounded into him.

Right now, he really wanted to see it falling in graceful curls around Sef’s face, sticking to his cheeks and forehead as he bit his lip, grinding his hips down-

“You’ve got that look,” Sef observed, settling down in Kadar’s lap triumphantly. “What are you thinking about?”

“This,” Kadar replied with a secret smile, prying the condom from Sef’s fingers and ripping open the foil packet. “You. Your stupid hair.”

Sef actually managed to look slightly offended at that last comment and he pulled a thin black hair tie from his wrist to put it up, but he didn’t even get halfway there before Kadar was burying his hands in the long, dark locks and kissing him soundly. Sef made a noise of discontentment, grumbling something half-heartedly against Kadar’s mouth that fell on deaf ears.

“Leave it down,” Kadar murmured, pulling away to meet his lover’s gaze, “You’re beautiful this way.”

A blush worked its way across Sef’s cheeks and he kissed the tip of Kadar’s nose. He had a weakness for being sweet-talked, especially by dark young men with brilliant blue eyes who were hopelessly devoted to him.

They rutted against each other, stealing air from each others mouths more than actually kissing. Kadar worked his hand between them, giving Sef’s swollen length a few strokes before searching further back, pressing the pad of his finger to the pucker of his entrance. Sef’s eyes fell closed, a little groan rumbling in his chest. He claimed the small bottle of lube from Sef, opening it with his free hand and then reaching around his body to coat his fingers with it until they were totally slicked. The bottle ended up discarded, tossed on the floor for next time.

Kadar pushed two fingers in at once and Sef’s body stretched to accept them, aching and hot. He was always so tight- no matter how many times they fucked. It was intoxicating.

Sef rolled his hips back, mouth catching on the prominent curve of Kadar’s clavicle as he pitched forward. He nipped and sucked at it greedily, leaving small red marks where his lips and teeth touched. Kadar hissed in annoyance.

“How am I supposed to hide those?” he asked, his fingers twisting to hit the sweet spot and turning Sef into even more of a throbbing mess against him. Sef whined, hands clawing at Kadar’s shoulders in response.

“Don’t hide them then,” came the surly reply, “Let everyone see them because you’re mine.”

Kadar clicked his tongue in disapproval. He didn’t actually mind that much, but the marks from the last time Sef had decided to get more than a little possessive had barely faded and he was tired of making excuses to his brother as to where they came from. Malik had an obnoxiously high standard for moral behavior. It didn’t matter how old Kadar was, or that he had a job and went to school, he was always the baby brother to be protected.

“You’re impossible,” Kadar growled, pulling his fingers free of Sef’s body so that he could roll the condom onto his own thick need. “I should leave one on you. Your cousin would never let you hear the end of it.”

They both fell silent- Sef coming up on his knees to position himself, then the slow descent back down. His breath caught in his throat as the full span of Kadar’s cock filled him and when he was fully seated in Kadar’s lap he stilled for a few seconds, letting the sensation sink in. His hands tightened on Kadar’s shoulders and he shifted, knees sliding on the sheets to find a position with better leverage so that he could ride Kadar in earnest.

Slicked fingers found their way to Sef’s hips, Kadar’s thumbs dragging along the pronounced jut of his hipbones, skin hot under his hands. His breath came in shuddering heaves and he could barely even blink- mesmerized by the sight of his own length gliding in and out of Sef’s body. His gaze strayed up to Sef’s mouth, where he had his lower lip tucked tight between his teeth, and he couldn’t resist the urge to bury a hand in Sef’s hair, tangling his fingers in it and tugging softly.

“That had better not be the one with lube on it,” Sef breathed seriously, nails biting into Kadar’s overheated skin.

Kadar smiled and pulled a little harder. “I would never.”

Neither of them lasted long, both too aware of the time constraint on them to want to draw it out. Once Kadar closed his hand over Sef’s weeping length, wrist moving with quick, firm strokes, Sef was completely undone- his pace staggering wildly out of control until he was just grinding down against that one spot, a soft cry passing his lips as he came across Kadar’s chest in fat, white spurts. It was enough to draw Kadar’s climax from him, the tightening of Sef’s body becoming too much to bear, and he thrust his hips up hard a few times, spilling into the condom without so much as a sound.

Sef was too spent to hold himself up any longer and he halfway collapsed on Kadar, carefully avoiding the mess he’d made in lieu of landing on the cool sheets. The thought of having to get up and dress himself for his cousin’s imminent arrival only heightened his exhaustion and he buried his face in a pillows, pulling one of Kadar’s arms to tangle with his own.

The smooth plane of Kadar’s cheek brushed along Sef’s back momentarily as he placed quick kisses along his shoulder, and quite suddenly the post-coital laziness was broken by a hard slap when Kadar’s hand swung down hard on Sef’s bottom.

“You jackass!” Sef shouted, nearly falling off the bed in surprise, “You’re so abusive!”

Kadar couldn’t come up with an adequate response through his peals of laughter, but he did massage over the growing red spot gently and once he had somewhat composed himself, he removed himself from the bed in search for a tissue.

“You should get dressed, beautiful,” Kadar spoke as he wandered about the room, tossing what he could find of their clothes on the bed, “Don’t wanna keep your cousin waiting, he might come in and collect you himself.”

And, of course, it was just then that Sef’s phone began to ring the telltale tune of Altaïr’s ringtone. Perfect.

Sef peeled himself off the sheets and groped around the growing pile of clothes for his phone, grumbling to himself when he found it and put it to his ear.

“I’ll be out in a second,” Sef huffed and hung up, yanking the first shirt he grabbed from the pile and pulling it over his head. Kadar didn’t bother beyond a pair of pajama pants which hung distractingly low on his waist to accompany Sef out, both of them moving in silence through the quickly darkening house.

This was, in Kadar’s opinion, the most inconvenient part of their relationship. He hated how seldom Sef stayed the night and that it always seemed like their time was cut so short. He kept these thoughts mostly to himself, except on the rare occassions that they’d argued about just how little they’d been spending together lately. Sef was of the opinion that their relationship was based on quality of their outings rather than how often they saw each other.

And quite honestly, Kadar believed that was a load of crap. After a year together, he’d been entirely willing to step up his level of commitment and Sef seemed so set on things remaining the way they were. It was exasperating, but not something that Kadar wanted to bring up just now, not tonight at least.

He’d gotten himself so lost in thought that Kadar didn’t even realize Sef had gotten his shoes on and was ready to go out the door until he was being led into a snug embrace and Sef’s mouth was moving against his sensuously, putting all honest thought from his mind.

“I wish I could stay longer,” Sef murmured, his fingers moving on their own to tangle up in Kadar’s hair as he pulled him closer, resting their foreheads together. “We’re still on for next weekend, right?”

“The camping? Of course. You should invite your brother or cousin to come along. I’m sure Malik wouldn’t mind the company.”

Sef’s expression turned slightly sour, inspiring a light laugh from his lover.

“You don’t want to go camping with Altaïr, he’s no fun.” Sef was quiet for a moment of contemplation and Kadar took the chance to press their mouths together, a gesture cut short when Sef pulled away. “And besides, I’d never be able to talk him into taking a day off work. He loves his job too much.”

“Invite him anyway,” Kadar stated, slightly insistent, “

 

“Love you too,” Kadar said softly against Sef’s mouth, punctuating the statement with one final kiss. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

**. . .** **  
**

Altaïr watched from the car as Sef came bumbling out of the house, trying to ignore the fact that his little cousin was not wearing the same shirt he’d left the house with this morning and that his hair was, in all honesty, an ungodly mess that could only be the result of a certain type of recreational activity. It didn’t bother him in the traditional sense, not really. Sef was young, this sort of thing was expected of him. What Altaïr did not like was secrets, however, and this was a big one.

“Who did you say you were with again?” Altaïr asked, trying his best to sound non-chalant when Sef opened up the door to his car and got in. “Girlfriend?”

Sef’s reply came in the form of a scoff and that was all Altaïr needed to know that his theory was correct, nevermind that Sef reeked of sex to the point that Altaïr was tempted to crack open a window.

“I’m walking to class tomorrow,” Sef announced. “I’m meeting a friend early.”

Well, this was different. Sef walking somewhere? Willingly? The prying side of Altaïr wanted to ask questions, but he kept his mouth closed. He’d learned the hard way long ago that Sef required a certain amount of privacy that Darim didn’t, that he was more sensitive. And on the topic of Darim, Altaïr had barely seen him all day. He had some kind of meet after classes, Altaïr knew that much, but usually he’d be back home by now, sitting in the living room working on his term papers.

Altaïr was by no means worried, since Darim had always been the more responsible of his cousins, but it was slightly disconcerting. Darim was the sort to text even the slightest change in his schedule not because he was incapable of taking care of himself, but out of consideration for others. In that way, he and Sef were almost complete opposites. Sef went where the wind took him.

“Do you know if your brother had any plans?”

“Other than track? He said he was going out with a few friends,” Sef supplied as he fiddled about with his cell phone. “Why?”

“Just wondering.”

They fell into a silence, broken only by the tapping of Sef’s fingernails on the touchscreen of his phone. Altaïr reached over to the stereo and turned it on, filling the car with the upbeat thrum of Led Zeppelin.


End file.
